the gray ghost
by DOCGRAY
Summary: this is a mainstream contimunim story. i thought the gray ghost should be brought over. this is my take. Batman is missing, nightwing and company must take care of buisiness, and deal with a newcomer.
1. the gray ghost

The Gray Ghost

The fog rolled in from the docks. It was past midnight, and the night watchman was making his rounds. He never saw the shadows lurking behind him. He never heard the foot falls behind him, but he did feel the butt of the pistol strike him across the back of his head. Landing on the ground in front of his attackers, his breathing and pulse was assessed to be normal by the man who didn't hit him, guaranteeing he wasn't dead. He didn't sign on to kill anybody, especially not in this town. The police denied his existence, but every hood and thug swapped stories about the "Bat" and how he dealt with murderers. The guard was breathing and had a steady pulse. The two attackers dragged the unconscious man to the shadows tied him up, and hid him under a tarp. They made there way to a building near the rusting cranes and jimmied their way into an office. Tony O. and his vicious partner, JD, were ransacking the office and searching files.

"Hey JD, why are we do' in this any way? What about the Bat?"

"The Bat ain't been around lately, and the boss wants this done, that's why." JD answered.

"But the Bat has partners, Nightwing, Robin, and what about Batgirl? Word is they're out in force since the Bat disappeared." Tony Pleaded.

"They been busy all over Gotham and don't have time to get out here, what with all the nut jobs out there, like the Joker." Another shadow appeared unnoticed.

"Good thing I'm not too busy." The voice sounded eerie and ominous. The hoods turned to see a figure standing in the doorway. He wore a gray fedora hat and open trench coat. Actually he was gray from head to toe with smoke tinted goggles over his eyes.

" You boys have been naughty. You better put your toys away then march right off to bed." The gray figure taunted.

The two criminals looked at each other and began to laugh.

"You ain't nobody, who you suppose to be?" JD shouted.

"I'm new in town, you can tell all your friends in jail that I'm the Gray Ghost" the figure replied.

"The Gray Ghost, huh, you have no idea how right you are" JD said. With that, JD pulled his gun and aimed at the Gray Ghost.

"You don't want to do that," the Ghost cautioned, then JD pulled the trigger, as the bullet passed right through the Gray Ghost, rings of gray smoke rippled from the would be wound, as a pebble dropped into a pond, and busted out the window behind him. The Ghost raised his hand and brought it across his chest and the gun flew across the room and landed in a toilet several feet away. Both men looked at each other again, this time with fear.

"What are you!" Tony screamed

"I told you, I'm the Gray Ghost." The Ghost answered. With that he puffed into a cloud of smoke and reappeared behind Tony, grabbing him around his arms and chest in a bear hug and they both disappeared. The Ghost and his victim returned instantly on the other side of the room, the crook disoriented and passed out. The Gray Ghost turned his attention to JD and said "your turn."

"What did you do to him? Is he dead?" JD shrieked,

The Ghost walked towards JD and pulled a pair of nylon handcuffs from his pocket. Tossing the cuffs to JD, the Ghost orders " save yourself from having to find out the hard way and put these on."

"No way, I ain't goin back." JD shouted as he dove for the window behind the desk. He had crashed through and found himself in the arms of the Gray Ghost. Before he passed out, he remembered the smoke all around him and the dizziness and nausea set in immediately. When he awoke, he was wearing the nylon cuffs and was sitting in front of the shabby dockside office. Tony was sitting there too, and approaching them was the familiar blue and white squad car of the Gotham PD.

As the police car came to a stop, a large and grungy looking detective with a fedora and overcoat, and stubby cigar stepped out. Harvey Bullock. The large detective walked up to the pair of gift-wrapped thugs and chuckled to himself.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Looks like the Bats not long gone after all, eh Smitty?"

"Not the Bat, the Ghost" Tony cried "the Gray Ghost!"

Sitting alone in a dark apartment, a young man stares at a gray fedora hat and a pair of smoke tinted goggles lying on his bed. There is an old country music song playing softly in the background, Hank Williams "your cheatin' heart." The room is tidy, with the exception of the costume next to the hat. The young man stands up and carries the gray suit and overcoat to a wall next to his closet, reaches through the full length mirror on the solid wall and hangs the clothing up in a hidden closet, made just for the outfit. He returns to the bed and grabs the hat and goggles. He places these in the hidden closet in their respective homes. The young man turned off his radio, grabbed his brown leather jacket and black ball cap and left his little apartment.

The young man, in his mid-twenties and blonde-haired, headed to a little café down the block. He needed to eat something; his "jumps" as he called them always took a toll. He hadn't been like this his whole life. There was a time when Simon Trent was like any other person. But now, he was different. Jason arrived at the small diner and ordered up his eggs and coffee. He was reading a newspaper that had been lying on the table, when two of Gothams' finest had wandered in to the café and sat at the counter. Jason then pretended to read as he listened in on the cops' conversation with an attractive redheaded waitress that had been wiping down the counter. He was listening for anything that they might have had to say about the Batman's disappearance or the arrival of the Gray Ghost. Simon sat in this same diner and listened to these same two cops flirt with the waitress regularly for the last few weeks. This was pretty much how Jason got his info. Usually nothing very big, but he had to admit, he didn't have a search light on top of police headquarters' with his name on it, so he took what he could get; which wasn't much. It was too early to hear of his most recent public appearance, but there might be something worthwhile. When Simon saw that there would be no news this morning, he finished his eggs, paid his bill, and left.

Simon headed towards his apartment, when he was side tracked by a couple of purse-snatchers on a motorcycle. They had veered up onto the sidewalk and grabbed the laptop of a young brunette woman in a wheel chair. Simon saw this pulled up his gray hoody and quickly "jumped" reappearing on the back of the motorcycle taking hold of the laptop and the bike and "jumped" again teleporting the bike with him, sending the crooks crashing into the pavement. He had the laptop back in the woman's possession in seconds. Simon watched the woman in the wheel chair leave the street by way of cab from the rooftop. He knew her. Barbara Gordon. She was Commissioner Gordon's daughter, put in that chair by the Joker. He had shot and tortured her while he made her father watch. What was she doing in that neighborhood, Simon wondered. As he looked towards the great big clock tower not that very far away. When he saw that she was safe in the taxi, he "jumped" from the roof taking the bike with him, to the nearby alley and rode the motorcycle home.

Barbara Gordon had seen the events that had occurred, but could not see the face of the man who had helped her. She made a call to Dick Grayson.

"Nightwing"

"Go, Oracle" Nightwing replied

" I think I just found the new player in town, puffs in and out with a cloud of gray smoke"

"Did you get a good look?" the detective inquired

"No, he had a gray hooded sweat shirt covering his face. He wasn't in any costume, but I think it was the Gray Ghost. I've been getting reports on him from my agents; Huntress reported some work had been done on some hoods on the docks before she could get there. Seems this guy is on our side"

" Anything else?" Nightwing asked

" Nothing, what do you want to do about him?" Barbara replied

" Have Robin start watching that neighborhood, if you saw him this early, he might be a local. He should pop up in a night or two. I want to know what I can before I meet him"

"When do you plan on that?" she asked

"As soon as I can, with Batman out, we need complete control of these streets, especially any new fighters who have any thoughts about setting up shop in this town. You know how particular the old man is"

"Sure do" the former Batgirl answered. " Anything else"

"Have you heard from him?"

"No word in days, but my agents around the world are keeping their eyes and ears open. I'll let you know when I know"

"Got it, Nightwing out." As Dick Grayson puts down his comm. Unit, he picks up his cup of coffee and asks him self, "where are you, Bruce?"

That was the same thought Simon Trent had, But he had Batman in Bruce Wayne's place, not knowing that the two men were one and the same. Simon had promised the Batman that he would give up playing superhero when they had last met, five years earlier. But with Batman missing, Simon felt he needed to help protect the streets until the Dark Knight reappeared. Some things, Simon felt, were more important than promises made to men in masks, no matter what you owed that masked man.

That night Simon reached through the solid wall next to his closet and pulled out his costume, though he preferred to think of it as a uniform. True, there was nobody else out there wearing this particular get up, the word costume was too much like pretend, and he was doing a lot more out there in the last two weeks than pretend. With his uniform in hand, he quickly, but ceremoniously changed his clothes, leaving the goggles and hat for last. Looking in the mirror against the wall, he mentally prepares himself for the task ahead off him. He puts on his goggles and hat ands "jumps" to the alley behind his apartment where he had the bike hidden. He knew this was wrong, but he figured the motorcycle could be put to better use than purse snatching. He needed wheels and didn't have the resources the Batman seemed to have. He had spent a couple of hours in his kitchen giving the bike a tune up and removing the License plate and VIN numbers. The paint job he was considering would have to wait until he had found somebody he could trust. Plus he wanted to make some modifications to the bike and to his apartment before he put his name all over the thing. He could "jump" the bike anywhere he needed, to keep people off his tracks but it would be better on his body and health if he kept that to a minimum. The Gray Ghost pulled the tarp off the bike that was hiding behind a dumpster and climbed on, he started up the bike and began his patrol.

He kept his hat on his head, with his telekinesis power, with little effort. This was a trick he had practiced a lot living in Chicago and not wanting to go chasing after his hats or holding the top of his head like everyone else in the city. As the Gray Ghost rode his newly acquired bike though Gotham city, he didn't see that the Red Bird was tailing him, Robin's own car, until he had turned a corner and saw it from the mirror. The Gray Ghost let Robin follow him for eight blocks, turning left and right at various time, just to make sure it was him the Boy Wonder was tracking. Finally, the Gray Ghost pulled his bike into an all and "jumped" to nearby fire escape. There he watched the Redbird pull up to the alley. Robin got out of his car and pushed a button on the side of his mask as he looked down into the shadows, bow staff in hand. Robin kept his back to the Redbird. The Gray Ghost "jumped" to the passenger seat of the Redbird and waited for Robin to get back in. Robin was still watching the alley when he eased in to the drivers' seat, that's when he saw the Ghost.

"Can I help you?" the Gray Ghost asked

Robin jumped back and pulled a box from his utility belt. Before he could aim the device at the intruder, the Gray Ghost raised his hand and the box flew to it.

"Relax kid, you're the one who's following me."

"How did you do that?" Robin asked, nervous at the situation he now found himself in. outside the car, he could have fought, but the car was cramped and he had few options as he sat there. He weighed them while he waited for the right moment to present itself.

"Why are you following me, Robin?" the Ghost ask being very polite

Robin just watched to intruder.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I know you work with Batman. I just want to help, while he's away, I know you and the others have your hands full."

"Why should I trust you" Robin asked

"Batman saved my life, a couple of times. I just want to repay the favor"

"What do you mean?" the boy Wonder asked

But, before he could get an answer, the Ghost disappeared in a cloud of gray smoke. Robin started chocking and climbed out of the Redbird, looking into the alley he saw that the bike was gone. Fortunately, he had planted a tracer on the bike while he was in the alley. Robin climbed back into the Redbird and started following the tracer's signal.

Robin flipped a switch on the dash board and said

"Nightwing are you in?"

Across town Nightwing was tying up cat burglar and answered to communication unit in his ear.

"Nightwing here, report"

"Just spoke to the Ghost"

"What do you mean, spoke, you were just suppose to tail him?" Nightwing demanded

"Well, he spotted me and the next thing I know, he's in my car talking about wanting to be friends. Says Batman saved his life and he just wants to help out."

"How did he get in your car?"

"Just like Oracle said, he puffed with gray smoke. This guys better than Batman with the 'now you see me, now you don't''

"Where is he now?" Nightwing asked

"I planted a tracer on his bike, I'm following it now."

"Send me the beacon freq, I want to meet you there, I'd like to have a word with him, myself"

"In route…you got it" Robin asked.

"Got it" Nightwing answered as he walked back to the Batmobile, parked nearby. Nightwing punched the controls and had the sleek, black car racing across town to meet the signal and his young partner.

When they converged on top of the signal, they found it on the back of a Gotham police Cruiser.

"He must have found it" Robin said

Nightwing just stared at the little black bat.

"Well, what next" the new Robin asked the former Robin

"Back to patrol," Nightwing answered, "if he's on the up and up like he says, he'll turn up soon."

With that, both costumed crimefighters returned to their vehicles and resumed their search for justice. They didn't see a gray shadow watching them from behind. When the little red light on the bat tracer stopped blinking, the ghost assumed they had stopped tracking, and he retrieved it. Placing it in his pocket, he returned to his bike and rode to Crime Alley.


	2. chapter 2

chapter 2

Tim sat in the cave; he had already changed out of his costume and back into his street clothes, watching Dick pace back and forth in front of the huge computer station. Dick still wore his costume, but had removes his gloves and mask. He ran his fingers through his black hair. What was he going to do? Bruce had been kidnapped in broad daylight, on live TV, at that charity ball. Obviously he couldn't fight them off there, but why hadn't he gotten out? Where was he now? Was he even still alive?

"What's next?" Tim asked

"I don't know, he should have made contact, but Barb has nothing" dick answered

"I mean about this Gray Ghost, he just disappeared. What do you think?"

"Well, first of all, he's ticked me off, I hate losing them like that, especially him popping in and out like that, leaves us vulnerable."

"So, what do you want to do?"

"Business as usual. We got a lot of work out there to do, if he wants to help, let him. But, we keep our eyes open for him. I don't trust him, and I don't want him pulling anything over on us. If we have to, we put him down"

"Got it, but how, he keeps teleporting?" Tim asked,

"He what?" dick was confused

"Teleporting, like in Star Trek. He could teach Bruce a thing or two. He has to have some great technology, way better than ours, or the JLA's or maybe he's a Meta." Tim added

"Good point, track down what you can online, see who could possibly have that kind of technology, not Waynetech, I think Bruce would have already put it to use, what about Lexcorps?" Dick asked

"I'll get on it, but it'll have to be tomorrow, dad is going to freak if he finds me out again."

"Got it, go ahead and go, I'll see what me and Alfred can come up with." Dick said as Tim walked down the lone cavern that ran under his house on the next estate.

Dick sat in front of the Computer and called up Barbara on the private line.

"Oracle, this is Nightwing"

"Go ahead" she answered

"I need a list of known Metas' with teleporting capabilities, particularly those that may have crossed pathes with Batman" Dick requested

"Anything else?" Barb asked

"Not for now, I'll see you when I get home" Dick replied

"Don't wake me up when you get in. on second thought, maybe you can" Barbara teased. "Nightwing out" as he blushed

Dick called Alfred down to the cave. The long time servant brought down a hot breakfast for the young crime fighter, and the morning paper headlineing the continued disappearances of Bruce Wayne and Batman.

"What shall we do about this, if either one of them don't show up soon, people shall start drawing their own conclusions, Sir?" Alfred asked

"And if they both show up at the same time, there will be even more speculating" Dick added. "The only answer is for me to double for him, I've done it before; I should have done this sooner. Do we still have those costumes in my size Alfie?" Dick asked

"Of course, Master Bruce wouldn't think of letting anything like that go. He still has Jean Paul's Costume in storage as a reminder of his past failures."

"Good, I'll need it, I thought driving around the batmobile would be enough to announce his appearance, but it looks like the crooks need a silhouette or two, I'll go out tonight."

"Very well, Master Dick, but do remember to keep your visibility down, some have seen the Batman enough to pick up on the differences." Alfred cautioned

"Good point, Commissioner Gordon wasn't too happy the last time I played dress up." With that, Dick and Alfred took turns at the computer looking for teleporting technology

Across town, Jason Woods was laying in his bed. He was tired from the previous evening in Crime Alley. He had stopped two would be rapists from attacking a young single mother in front of her two children, and had fought the temptation of teleporting their genitals into orbit. Instead, he thought of what the Bat would do, and left them tied to a lamppost while he called 911 from a pay phone, he had to get a better system that this.When the police arrived, he "jumped" to his bike, two blocks away and rode on.

Jason stared at the little bat shaped beacon in his hand. It was about half an inch in from wing to wing, maybe a quarter of an inch from ears to tail, with a red light bulb in the center that was blinking when he found it on the back of his bike. The kid did a good job of hiding it, Jason wouldn't have known it was there, but he did watch the Boy Wonder place it there. Now, the tracer sat in his hand, lifeless. Jason marveled at the ingenuity of the tiny device. Part of him worried about the device coming back to life and giving him away, maybe that had been their plan, to let his curiosity be his undoing. Then again, maybe the recent loss of their leader had them losing their edge and getting sloppy from the stress. Whatever the reason, Jason couldn't let himself get rid of the device. Besides, maybe he could rewire it some how into a distress signal of sorts. He knew a guy he could get to do it, the old man that ran the electronics store down on Broadway. The old man, Mr. Martinez, lived in an apartment above his shop. He heard a break in and went to check it out. Three young punks were swiping MP3 players and Cds. They jumped the storekeeper when he confronted him. The Gray Ghost had been working the streets for a couple of days when he saw the attack from a nearby roof. He "jumped" in and put the teenagers down with little fuss or muss. Mr. Martinez had been very grateful when the Ghost had called for police and an ambulance that he told the gray vigilante about his electronics history and offered his services anytime the Ghost might need them. This looked like the perfect opportunity the Ghost needed to build up his arsenal. Currently he only had the clothes on his back, his "gifts" and his recently acquired motorcycle, which he still wanted to customize. Jason decided to pay the old man a visit that night before beginning his patrol. Jason put the bat tracer in his secret closet and returned to bed, and slept for the next five hours.

When he awoke, Jason stepped over to his kitchenette, poured a bowl of cereal and sat down in front of the TV to watch the local news. No new sightings of the Batman, but the reports were running wild over the Gray Ghost. Some theories on the street were that the Batman was dead and had returned with help from the Spectre as the Gray Ghost. Jason chuckled to himself. The thought of him as the reincarnation of the World's Greatest Detective/Gotham's scariest boogey man tickled him pink. But, it also told him that people were taking him serious, and some were scared as hell, and that was all the worthwhile. He had to do something about the Bat clan though. He needed to get them on his side. Earn their trust. Especially if the Batman were to return, Jason knew he needed the blessing of the Not-So-Lone protector of Gotham to continue his work. In their last meeting, the Batman told Jason that he didn't want any amateur vigilantes running around his city. Jason had promised to give up stalking the night; the same night the Batman saved his life, for the second time. Jason was now breaking that promise, only because the Dark Knight was nowhere to be found. Gotham needed protecting, and Jason believed the Bat clan needed help to do it. Besides, Jason was a kid when he made that promise, barely out of high school. He now had almost complete control of his powers. Almost, because he still didn't know the extent of them or if any others were lying dormant that still has yet to be discovered and mastered later, as he had mastered his known powers while studying under a martial arts master in Japan, during his college studies, having won a total ride scholarship from the Wayne Foundation, not long after meeting the Bat face to face.

Jason snapped out of his reminiscent daydream and refocused on the task at hand. He looked at his clock on the VCR; the time was 12:20, eight more hours until dark. He took a shower, shaved, and placed a call to his manager. Being a freelance writer gave him the liberty to work from home at his leisure, without having to report to anyone about his comings and goings. It also gave him the opportunity to learn about the problems of Gotham, and many large cities. Not just from his Gray Ghost activities, but as a citizen walking the streets of his neighborhood. Witnessing the plight of the common man and woman from their perspective. He made several points to his manager, Kaye Allen, about his current stories and articles, emailed the files to her, and made notes with her about future projects. When he got off the phone he sat down at his laptop and began writing about nothing in particular. It was just good practice for that number one best seller he, like many writers, was planning to do before he died. He spent the evening doing stretches, exercises, and eating to get his energy up for his "jumps". When the sun set, Jason showered again, removed his costume from the secret closet and suited up with the same religious routine he had practiced a lot of lately, saving the hat and goggles for last. When he was ready, he looked into his mirror, psyched himself up and "jumped" to the hidden motorcycle in the back alley. He mounted the bike and "jumped" to a clear road two blocks away, started up the bike, and rode to Mr. Martinez's shop.

At the same time, in the Batcave, Dick Grayson was using the same meticulous routine to don the Batman costume before him. He kept the cowl pulled back off his face while he scrutinized the contents of his utility belt, and made sure he had his Nightwing gear packed into the Batmobile. He felt that both Nightwing and Batman needed to be seen, to keep up the illusion. Finally, Dick pulled the mask into place and looked at Tim, who was already dressed out in his Robin costume.

"Well, how do I look?" the new Batman asked in the same deep sounding gritty voice.

"Passable" was Robin's only response.

Both Crime fighters checked their comm. links, climbed into their respective vehicles and raced along the cold dark road through the cave to the secret entrance outside Wayne Manor's estate, and towards Gotham.

As Dick drove through the mean streets of Gotham at a speedy pace, he called up Oracle.

"Oracle" The gritty batman voiced sounded

"Go ahead, Batman" Oracle replied, sadly knowing that it was really Dick on the other side.

" How's that list of Metas' coming?" Batman asked

"I just sent it to the cave computers, you–know-who is already working on them.

"Thanks" Batman replied

"Anything else" Oracle asked

"I need to know if any of the big bads aren't safely tucked away behind bars tonight."

"Got it, have it back to you in ten" Oracle replied, and then Batman switched off his comm. and turned to the police scanner. There was a gang fight going on about six blocks away, gunfire and civilian casualties. Batman called Robin to meet him half a block from the scene.

Robin parked the Redbird in an alley adjacent to the Batmobile and shot his cable to the nearest fire escape and made his way to the rooftop. Batman was watching the gunfight as he waited for the most recent Boy Wonder. When Robin arrived, Batman briefed his sidekick on the plan of attack. The most important part was to be seen. Gotham PD was pinned down outside the war zone perimeter. If the Batman were to be scene here, hopefully, many of the fighters would run off. The GCPD could round them up easily if they were disoriented. That should leave little trouble with entrenched gang bangers.

Batman and Robin swung to the riot and prepared to make their move when they saw gray shadow moving about the scene, disappearing in and out of the picture, grabbing gun men each time and returning them to the ground. They appeared to be drugged and passed out. In minutes, the Gray Ghost had almost half of the twenty opposing gangs members under control, if you can call unconscious under control, before the giant bat silhouette was seen on the roof. The fighting began to break up as cries of the Batman's return echoed through the riot. The fighters started running in all different directions.

Batman and Robin swung down to the street where GCPD and EMT services had moved in to control the scene. Batman called to the Gray Ghost as he was turning to leave. The Ghost stopped and turned to see the Dark Knight himself.

"Good to see you again, Batman" he called out cordially

"What are you doing here!" Batman demanded

The Gray Ghost froze, looked the Batman up and down and slowly approached the Dynamic Duo, in a low voice he said

"Your not him, but it's a good idea. The people need to see him, might clear up this mess. But you should stick to the shadows more, I've met the Batman, he's taller and thicker than you." With that, the Gray Ghost disappeared in a cloud of gray smoke as the Batman had thrown a bolo at the gray shadow only to meet smoke, which it scattered before wrapping itself around a lamppost.

Highly irritated, Batman and Robin shot their lines and swung off of the scene. The good part was that people would be talking of the Batman's return. The bad news was, they still had no idea who this Gray Ghost was. Maybe there was something in Bruce's secret files that they normally wouldn't have access to. Maybe Barb could hack into them and shed a little light on this mystery.

Batman made a call to Clark Kent's home phone. After insuring that the line was safe, he spoke up,

"Hey Clark, any luck with the search for Mr. Wayne?" Batman asked in his deep voice

Superman and the Justice League had been conducting their own search for Bruce Wayne since his abduction.

"Nothing, not even an idea as to who could have taken him. The attack was pretty clean and quick, some real professionals. I see your filling in." Clark added.

"Needs to be done." Batman replied before breaking the connection.

"More like the old man than you know, Mr. Grayson" Clark Kent muttered to himself before hanging up his phone. He kissed his beautiful wife good night and left her on the couch while he stepped to the bedroom. There he checked the JLA comm. link on his computer. Then pulled on his own costume and flew out the window. He had a few ideas to check out before heading to bed.

The Gray Ghost had "jumped" into the back room of the electronics shop. He rang the customer bell to get Mr. Martinez's attention without giving the old man a heart attack, plus, he didn't feel like dodging any more bullets. The gang fight really wore him out and he needed to eat soon. He pulled a power bar from his pocket and began to eat it. It wasn't much, but it would help.

The old man peered cautiously down the stairs, baseball bat in hand, and he called out "who's down there?"

"A friend" the Ghost answered in his eerie voice

"What?" the old man couldn't believe it, the Ghost had returned to his shop. Mr. Martinez approached the Ghost slowly and put his bat down on the counter. The Ghost quickly explained what he wanted and the old man asked to see the tracking device. The Ghost handed it over and the old man looked at it.

"Don't know if I can, it's pretty upscale, but I'll give it a shot, you want it to signal, right?" Mr. Martinez asked

"That's right, I could have some trouble and may need the help." The Ghost replied

The Ghost "jumped" out of the shop to his bike, and slowly rode out a fast food joint, he pulled some clothes out of the gym bag on the back of his bike and changed in an alley. He placed the tarp he had with him over the bike and entered the restaurant, ordered up his meal and relaxed in a back booth, not leaving his back to a door. He finished his meal and returned to the counter and ordered a dessert. He made a mental note about this new crime fighting life style was going to cut heavily into his grocery budget. He ate his pie and returned to his bike, donned his costume, and continued his patrol, feeling better, not great, but better.

21


	3. chapter 3

Bruce Wayne had been in and out of a drug-induced coma for the last few days. He had been unable to form fully coherent thoughts. He kept having dreams and images of his father standing before him, berating him for his failure to save them.

"I…just…aboy…" Bruce muttered out as incoherent as a drunk, but the apparition of his father kept on

"Just a boy? Did your mother and I raise you like that, to hide be hind excuses?" the ghost of Thomas Wayne demanded

"No…" Bruce replied sounding like a hurt little boy.

"No what!"

"No…sir" Bruce answered one last time before he passed to witness the murder of his parents again, before his eyes.

This was how Bruce Wayne had been since his abduction. The images in his head over ruling his sound and disciplined judgment. His tormentors constantly watched him, attending to the wounds they afflicted and monitoring his drug levels. They wanted information from him but they were unable to make any sense of what he had been saying to the phantom that none of them could see.

"What's he saying now?" One tech asked

"Not sure, just keeps muttering about being sorry, being just a boy, or something like that." The other tech answered.

"What is the Master looking for any way?"

"If I knew that, we would have it already." This time the answer came from behind them, making them both jump. The tall thin scientist checked his notes and the readout from the electrodes attached to their prisoner's head. Then he left the room as quietly as he had entered.

"Man, I hate it when he does that, sneak' in around and scaring people." The first tech cried.

"Don't ya know; he gets off on that kind of crap. That's why the Master brought him in on this deal" the second tech answered.

"Well, what kind of information is some rich spoiled golden child going to have anyway?"

"Like the doc said, if we knew that, we'd have it already."

Nightwing pulled the batmobile into the cave and parked on the turntable. He climbed out of the supped up car and peeled his sweat soaked mask off of his battered face and limped his way to a couch by the ravine, and starred down in to oblivion. Alfred, having heard the alarm indicating that the batmobile had returned had arrived into the cave, via the staircase, brining with him some soup and sandwiches, knowing that the young crime fighter would be hungry. Upon seeing the young man, he placed the food down beside him and calmly retrieved the medical supplies. He ministered the former Boy Wonder's wounds, as he had been accustomed to treating the head of this awkward household over the years. As Alfred did this, no one spoke, with the exception of Dick's occasional groans and winces from pain and Alfred asking what exactly needed to be doctored. All this while Dick slowly ate the sandwiches before him. He wasn't hungry, but unlike Bruce, he knew when not to upset Alfred while he was working. So. Dick sat there and ate.

Robin had just finished relaying the details of Nightwing's fight with Killer Croc to Batgirl when they had pulled into the cave later that evening. They took over patrol when Dick was too beat up to go on. Dick Protested, but between the two of the, Tim and Cassie had been convincing. It was almost sunrise as Tim crawled into bed, Cassie slept in a guest room in the Manor, and Dick had passed out on the couch in the cave, well fed and bandaged up, thinking, "Bruce, send us a signal or something, we need you."

After the long night, Jason needed to clean and repair his costume. He hadn't needed to before, but he had been working a lot and the cotton costume just wasn't holding up. The real Batman had not been around in almost a month, but his apprentice had been doing a terrific job keeping up appearances. Jason's current problem was that he couldn't keep making these suits to keep in reserve. He needed a durable costume that would hold up under any circumstance and be wash and wear ready. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of this mess when he made the suit in the first place. The coat could be dry cleaned, but the jacket that he wore under the trench coat wasn't your ordinary single breast button up. It covered the front of his chest; the buttons came up the right side and across at a diagonal towards his neck. That would be a pain in the neck to keep up, plus the weather was bad in Gotham hot one day then freezing the next. He would need something that would regulate his body temperature at all temps. He could disapperate to avoid being shot, but to hold that kind of concentration for the weather not only would make him more ghost like and useless in a fight, but also might even hurt him. He just needed to find the right material and design. He had taken the name and costume from an old comic book character. But had changed the cape to a coat. Now, Jason felt he should probably change the rest of the costume to make it more wearer friendly. He thought for a moment that changing the look would hamper the image he was trying to build, but then he figured the coat, hat and goggles were what were getting him recognized anyway, besides all the gray smoke, so a change was in order. Jason had an idea what he wanted, but had no reasonable way of getting it. He decided to pay Mr. Martinez another visit, to see how the tracer was coming, and because he really had no one else to talk about this with. He felt that he could trust the old electronics wizard. Jason made up a few sketches of what he had in mind and then made his way across town, as the Gray Ghost.

Dick Grayson awoke in front of the under ground ravine, sore and somewhat rested. Tim and Cassie were running programs on the computer, still searching for a connection between Bruce and the Gray Ghost. Alfred had brought down a nice hot supper; breakfast having been about twelve hours ago. Dick watched his team; the thought of "his" team frightened him as though Bruce weren't coming back, with admiration. Night after night they fought the streets, day after day they got on with their lives. Dick got to his feet and stepped over to the living quarters in the cave, a small bathroom and locker room that they started using when Barb first joined the team, and everyone thought it only appropriate to respect her privacy. Besides, the idea of a nice hot shower with out having to go all the way up to the manor suited Bruce just fine, he seems to like the cave more than the house anyways, too many painful memories, Dick assumed. Dick had removed the rest of his costume and body armor, the bandages then pulled into the shower. After having bathed, he sat down in the hot tub, Alfred made sure the tub was always ready, since Bruce enjoyed the Japanese custom of bathing then relaxing in a hot bath. Plus, it was good for sore muscles, helped to put the crime fighters back on the streets. After his bathing, Dick pulled on a pair of black sweats and let Alfred redress his wounds while he went over the evenings' plan of attack with Tim and Cassie. He would brief Oracle later. After Alfred had made sure they all had eaten, the vigilantes suited up, broke off and started their patrols. Dick was slower on the start tonight, but he made it out to Crime Alley in his Bat suit, with the Nightwing change of clothes safely tucked away in the batmobile.

It was an unusually slow night. Dick didn't need to throw a single punch. Where ever he found trouble, the sight of Batman frightened off the troublemakers. This was good, because Dick didn't particularly feel up to going nine rounds with anybody at that moment. Alfred had relayed some messages from the Commissioner, but nothing on Bruce. The Batman had passed the old electronics shop on Belvedere with out seeing a non-descript motorcycle park in the alley.

The Gray Ghost had missed the bat shaped shadow from across the street when he parked. He had covered the bike and rang the bell at the back door, giving the old man the courtesy. Mr. Martinez confirmed who was in his alley, the Gray ghost having answered the challenge with the correct password. The Ghost was invited into the empty shop and was greeted by his new friend.

"I think I got that tracer just about figured out, then I can start rewiring it." The old man stated as he walked away. When he turned around, he saw that Ghost had removed his hat and goggles. Before him stood a young blonde haired man in his mid-twenties hardly older than his own nephew, Juan Ramirez: "My name is Jason" was what the young man/fearsome ghost had said. Mr. Martinez just looked at him then asked, "why are telling me this?" in genuine shock and a feeling deep down that reminded him of pride, pride of being given this gift of great responsibility.

"Because I have no one else to share this with, and I trust you." Was Jason's only reply.

"Well, I'm Efrain, but you can call me "E."" the two men shared a moment of silence as what had just transpired sank in. finally,

"What do we do now?" E asked finally

"I have some costume problems I need to figure out and I thought I could bounce some ideas off of you."

"Sure, but lets go down stairs, if people see lights on they might get suspicious. " with that the descended the stairs to the basement where E did a lot of his personal work. There was a computer that let him keep up on the latest trends and secrets of the trade and quite a few tools that allowed him to do a bit more that repair toasters. Jason was in awe as he looked around. E directed Jason to sit down at the table he had the bat tracer splayed open and he made a pot of coffee.

Over the next few hours the two men talked about how Jason got into this kind of work. He felt E deserved to know every thing if he was to know anything and help him with his mission. Jason told E of the normal child hood he'd had until the car crash put him into a coma, the crash in which the Batman saved his life for the first time. When he awoke three months later, he discovered that he could move things with his mind. His family had moved to Chicago so that he could receive specialized treatment to rehab his body. There he had perfected the trick of holding onto a hat in the windy city with out his hands. After a full recovery, Jason's family moved back to Gotham. Slowly over the next few years, Jason had learned to "jump" quite by accident. He had been camping with some friends his senior year of high school and had gone hiking. He had seen some other kids screwing around by a cliff and a young girl had slipped. Jason ran to her aid and reached down to the girl, hanging onto a root that was about to give way. She was just out his reach. The other kid, a seventeen-year-old boy, ran for help. Jason reached as far as he could, trying to use his mind, but most of all wising he could be closer, and poof. The next thing he knew, he was hanging onto the girl and they both began to fall. Holding onto her, he concentrated on the ledge above and they poofed again, this time to safety. They both were passed out by the time help arrived. The girl couldn't recall what happened and Jason feigned memory loss too, not sure what to make of this new gift. He spent a lot of his free time after that practicing the limits of his powers. Each time he "jumped" he felt the same effects of nausea, vertigo, and passing out. But with each "jump," the symptoms got easier until they stopped, then he began "jumping" over longer distances and to areas that he couldn't see. After about two years he was proficient enough to use his gifts in a way that felt safe to him. He knew he had a new purpose, but was unsure of what it was until he witnessed some punks attacking an old woman for her purse. Jason "jumped" to the attackers and "jumped" again, this time taking the hoods with him and leaving them on the ground. He called for the police and an ambulance and waited with the old woman who hadn't seen a thing. Jason decided in that moment that Batman or the police couldn't be everywhere at once and that he should help them in their efforts. So that's what he did, for a couple of weeks, anyways. Jason had made a costume that was nothing more than black sweats, tennis shoes, gloves, and an old black bandana mask, like Zorro's. And he took to the streets. He felt like he was doing well until he crossed paths with Twoface. He had followed Twoface to his hide out when he surprised with a tear gas attack. Jason hadn't discovered his ability to disapperate yet, so he fell victim to the gas. He couldn't concentrate to "jump" out either. Twoface had his gun to Jason's head and flipped his coin.

"Bad side up, to bad for you" in his grating voice. Jason was saying good-bye to his family when the Batman crashed through a skylight. Twoface began shooting towards the ceiling, but Batman had already disarmed him and had him tied in a bolo before the pistol hit the ground. The Batman had unmasked Jason and had made it absolutely clear that he didn't want any amateurs in his city. He took Jason's name and drove him home in the batmobile. Jason had promised to give up the nightlife in gratitude for the Batman saving his life, twice now. But he always felt empty about that decision.

Not long after that, he had won a scholarship from the Wayne Foundation and found himself face to face with Bruce Wayne. He had been invited to brunch at Wayne Manor, a custom of Mr. Wayne's. He likes to get to know the scholarship winners personally, according to Mr. Pennyworth, Mr. Wayne's butler. Mr. Wayne had insisted that Jason call him Bruce. After getting to know him, Bruce had given Jason the scholarship check and inquired about Jason's future plans. Jason spoke briefly of his desire to travel and see new cultures. Then Bruce had suggested Japan. He had studied there and had enjoyed it immensely. By the end of the meeting, Bruce had made phone calls that had Jason in Japan and studying with not only a great staff of teachers, but also a martial arts master. Bruce felt you could truly enjoy the culture without studying the all aspects of it. And for four years, Jason studied what he could learn. His master, Master Ke, had discovered Jason's Talents and trained him to control them better than he could possibly believe through meditation and concentration. That was when he learned to disapperate. Upon returning to the states, Jason set up home in Gotham, were he continued to practice his masters' teachings. Then word of Bruce Wayne's kidnapping, and the disappearance of Batman, Jason had decided to break his promise to Batman and began to train his body and gifts rigorously. He had decided on the name and costume from an old comic book he saw in his parents' attic. After that, it was all pretty much history that E already knew or assumed.

After his long story, E and Jason went up to the apartment, where E made some sandwiches, and they began discussing the Jason's ideas for a new costume. E suggested brining in his nephew, Juan, who worked for WayneTech and who might have some ideas. Jason agreed but decided not to reveal what he had to Juan, at least until he got to know him, E understood and called his nephew.

Juan met them in the shops basement half an hour later. There he saw the Gray Ghost for the first time. He agreed to help with the Ghost's needs because E was his only family after the death of his parents. E had raised him, like his own child. Juan was grateful to this masked man for saving his Tio E. The Ghost described what he wanted and the young scientist knew exactly what would work.

"We have a prototype body suit we've been designing for the military. It regulates the body temp to a comfortable 98.6 degrees regardless of the outside environment. It is a new polymer; similar to a neoprene wetsuit scuba divers wear. Therefore it would be safe in any washing machine. The suit also had gloves and boots that accompany it. With the tests we've done on it, it should hold up perfectly for your needs." Juan finished.

"But how would I get it, I don't want you getting into any trouble, and stealing it would be wrong. I'm supposed to fight crime, not commit it." The Ghost lamented.

"The suits are made by scanning a body type and the suit is synthesized by the computers, we make them regularly for testing the polymer formula. It would be nothing to get in the lab at night, scan your body and build a suit for you. I can always right the paperwork up as a flawed test suit that was melted back down. No way to track it."

"Sounds alright, but is it ethical?" the Ghost asked

"Nothing could be more ethical than protecting the innocent," E answered

"You need support in your fight" Juan interjected, "and we want help" With that, it was decided. Juan set up a time for the Gray Ghost to appear in his lab where they would build this new suit.

Superman had used his X-ray vision to check almost every possible location in Gotham that Bruce Wayne could have been, but that was hours after his abduction, plenty of time for the kidnappers to get him out of the city. It had been almost a month now. He could be anywhere in the world. So Clark checked with his sources by day, and searched the world over by night. He had directed the Justice Leagues of America and Europe to break up the planet into sectors and search each on methodically, yet rapidly. They were running out of places to check. Not everyone in the leagues knew Bruce Wayne was the Batman, and since Nightwing was filling, in they weren't any the wiser, but they knew Wayne was an important man, not because he was rich, but because he used his wealth to help people, and if he was gone permanently, than the people would have no one that could protect them from the economic hardships that people like Lex Luthor would put them through. It was Bruce Wayne's riches and good will that has saved Gotham time and time again after disasters too numerous to count. Times when men like Luthor would just move in and buy the whole lot for pennies on the dollar. Yes, Wayne was needed, as much, if not more than those who served with him on in the League, Anybody could fight off an interplanetary invasion it seemed, but it was people like Wayne who picked up the pieces and made it worth while. That was what Superman was thinking as he flew over Turkey at three in the morning.

"Mr. Wayne, I see you're awake" the tall lean doctor exclaimed. Bruce was still groggy, but could make out Dr. Jonathan Crane, aka the Scarecrow. What was happening to him?

"Well, well, well…. Your mind and will is stronger than I thought. There's only one person I would have expected to put up this kind of fight to my…own special way of interrogation. Very interesting. I should follow this up later, new theories and all." With that, Dr. Crane left the worn out billionaire in the cold dark room to resume his "treatments" with the assistants on hand. Bruce tried to struggle, but the drugs in his system had him down, pretty much for the count.

Bruce woke again from his nightmares, alone in the cell, sweating and exhausted from his ordeals. Bruce was trying to get his head clear. His reason told him that the dreams weren't real, that the images of his parents were just the effects of the Scarecrow's drugs, but he still felt the shame and fear they were intended to inspire. He had to figure out were he was and how to get out. But most of all, he needed to find out who got him here to begin with. Crane was good with his chemicals, but there was no way he could have pulled this off by himself. He was a puppet and some one else, someone more dangerous, was pulling the strings. Bruce felt he might have been coming accustomed to the drugs, building up a tolerance. He decided he needed to play out there plans, keep them from changing the doses and sending Bruce back into the nightmares.

Bruce took a quick survey of his surroundings. Dark and small, monitors and leads everywhere, connected to him. He was restrained to the bed, preventing him from seeing much else. He needed to build up his strength. He sat there and focused on rest and the meditation techniques he had learned many years earlier. When he found himself centered, he tested the tension of his restraints. A little bit of give, he reached with his leg towards the monitor in front of his bed. He could just barley reach. He saved this information and checked around for anything else he may need to know. He had studied the art of escape, but hadn't been this limited before. That's when he saw it. Towards his left leg was the wall; he felt that he was wearing socks. No big deal. He reached with his foot, but it was out of reach. No use, he made a mental note of the object and waited for the opportunity to make his next move.

"He is very persistent," a dark figure said as he watched the image of Bruce Wayne in the monitor. Dr. Crane was standing across from the desk. "I shall adjust his medications immediately and have the room stripped." The doctor stated.

" No, I would like to see what he is capable of. Continue on track and make note of any new developments. Maybe it is time for a new strategy " the Master had countered. Crane didn't like this new course. His obsession was his research. He didn't care about any information some rich snob may have, he just wanted to test the boundaries of his sanity. Hell, they were probably just going for bank account numbers anyways, it would be easier just to rob the bank. But, Crane obeyed the new orders, secretly he decided he would do as he saw fit. There were other ways to continue his research with out the complications the Master had imposed.

Juan had stayed late to check some numbers on the latest batch of chemicals used to create the suits, at least that is what he told the late night watchman. In fact, he was starting up the bio scanners for the suit he intended to make for the Gray Ghost. Juan checked and re checked the calibrations, and he was starting to get nervous. It was getting late and he could only put off the watchman so long before questions were asked. "Come on…." Juan muttered to himself as he looked at his watch for the umpteenth time.

The Gray Ghost found himself at that moment face to face with the Penguin. The little birdman was unimpressed with the appearance of the Gray Ghost; so much so that he turned and waddled away from the vigilante, lobbing a grenade behind him as he stepped out the door. The Ghost barely had time to react and received the concussion as he "jumped" to the hallway. Landing before the Penguin, he looked up to see an umbrella pointed right at him, an umbrella with a smooth rifle bore. "Well, well, well…looks like the new boy in town doesn't like concussive grenades, I'm sure that would have come in handy, if you were going to make it passed the next thirty seconds, that is." The penguin tensed his grip on the trigger and prepared himself for the recoil that would follow. The Ghost tried to focus on "jumping" anywhere, but only saw stars as his ears bled. A batarang flew in and snatched the umbrella out of the villains hand, landing with a bang on the floor beside him, the bullet whizzing right by the Ghost's left ear, he noted a slight sound change, but not much. The Penguin turned to see the Batman standing in the windowsill at the end of the hall. Batman stepped of the sill and on the carpet and slowly advanced towards his prey. The Penguin reached into his coat, the Batman reached under his cape, the Penguin pulled out a small box and pushed a red button; a head splitting screech emanated from it the Batman dropped to his knee and flung another batarang from his cloaked form, smashing the box in the Penguins hand. The smoke and sparking left a burn through his cotton white glove. A second hand from the Batman's cape produced a bolo that left the Penguin struggling to keep his feet before the momentum of the toss took him to the floor. The Batman spoke in a low voice unintelligible to those before him. "Oracle, signal local authorities, and have the medical unit in the cave prepped."

"Got it, Oracle out" Barb replied as she made the arrangements. Batman approached the fallen Ghost and helped him to his feet, and before the Ghost could pull away Batman sprayed a mist into the Ghost's face, knocking him out almost instantly.

The Gray Ghost awoke to find himself unmasked, blind folded and had his hands cuffed behind his back. The Ghost stirred and could hear that he was not alone. He felt cold. The air was cool and damp, like a cave. "Lets talk Ghost" he heard from in front of him.

"Let's…" the ghost replied as he "jumped" leaving his handcuffs and blind fold behind "…. face to face"

The Batman stood his ground as the Gray Ghost reappeared about a foot to the left of where he had been laying just a moment before. The Ghost looked unimpressed by his surroundings. He was in a cave, though not the main chamber of the Batcave, this was a small chamber that was furnished only with the light that shown above them. The two men studied each other for several minutes before either spoke

"Well, you've seen mine, do I get to see yours?" The Ghost motioned from his face to the Bat's. "I don't think so" the Bat replied in his almost perfect gritty voice.

"What's next?" The Ghost asked.

"Who are you?" the Batman demanded

"I could say the same to you, you're still not him. I'll assume your Nightwing."

Giving nothing away, the Batman repeated his demand.

"You know you can't hold me here. All I have to do is think about it and I'm gone. You know that. My still standing here is a courtesy; so how's about you show me some courtesy and offer me something to drink, since I do appear to be your guest." The Ghost retorted. The Batman remained motionless for several moments before he submitted and called for a bottle of water. The Ghost put in for an order of Tylenol and sat down on the cave floor.

37


	4. Chapter 4

As Bruce Wayne lay on his cot, he had the timing of the shift changes down, and the cycling pattern of the cameras. He watched the meals he was provided closely, for fear of more chemicals, he discretely fed a portion to the rats he kept company with, and they had not displayed any odd behavior. Bruce's nightmares had continued, but he was in more control of his own mind. The scarecrow must not have changed his dosages.

The man who had orchestrated the kidnapping sat at his desk and watched Bruce Wayne, Billionaire Philanthropist, feeding his meal to the rats of his cell.

"Very interesting, it would take a very strong willed man to resist us this well, wouldn't it doctor?" the Master queried as he reached to the intercom.

"Yes, it would seem that way. We should really resume my chemical treatments, if you do want to break him." Dr. Crane replied

"Not yet, Crane. I have plans for this man and I don't want him completely crippled. He must be prepared for the program and his will must be broken for that, and so far, I do not see that your keeping your end of the bargain, just toying with him." The Master accused. The bad doctor recoiled at the smear. "I know what I'm doing, just untie my hands and that playboy will be sitting in yours!" the doctor mustered.

"Very well, Mr. Wayne needs to be ready in three days, specialists will be here then to begin his education." The master ordered.

"As you wish." Dr. Crane answered gleefully as he backed out of the control room and made his way to the lab. Twenty minutes later a dozen guards stormed into Bruce Wayne's cell, grabbing him up and beating him down, holding him to the ground, arms and legs held away from his body. Dr. Crane entered the cell and greeted his victim. "Mr. Wayne, it's time for your medicine" as he pulled a black case out of his coat pocket. "I've waited a long time for the right occasion to try out this one. You should feel honored to be the first" Crane taunted. Wayne's eyes focused on the box and he began to struggle, bucking the guards around amazingly for his position but doing very little in the way of letting him escape. Crane opened the box and removed the syringe and needle, connecting them together in front of Bruce, enjoying the reaction he saw. The fluid inside was a shade that Bruce hadn't seen the Scarecrow use before, he expected this to have very bad effects, and he was right. The needle went into his upper left arm and the chemicals burned their way into his body. He began screaming and bucking wildly. The guards held him down, but were hard pressed to do it. Then Wayne passed out and the dreams came at him full force.

The Gray Ghost sat on the floor of the cave swallowed his Tylenol with his bottled water and relaxed. He motioned for the Batman to join him on the ground. Batman declined.

"Suit yourself, but all that body armor can't be too comfortable. Where's my hat and goggles?" The Ghost inquired

Batman was getting very tired of the game but pulled the items out from his cape and dropped then at the Ghost's feet. In mock offense, "be careful with that, don't you know good hats need to be shaped in order to look good, otherwise I could just wind up looking foolish. I swear they don't teach manners these days at the superhero university." The Ghost could have gone on mocking, but the Batman double started to growl a deep guttural growl of annoyance, which let the Ghost know his patients were wearing thin.

With that, hoping for some kind of trust, The Gray Ghost introduced himself to the Batman. "I'm the Gray Ghost, as you've heard. My name is Simon Trent. I am a freelance writer and I believe in Truth, Justice, and the American way. I have gifts you've heard about, and gifts you haven't. I'm trying to be a good guy, not a villain. Which would be real easy for me, as you know. Batman saved my life twice and I owe him. So how about you cut the new kid on the block a little slack." Simon went on to tell the young knight of the times he crossed paths with the Bat mentor. Batman stood there showing no emotion, listening intently, also recording the whole conversation for later. Oracle listened in and began cross checking the facts of the car crash, the hospital bills, she had Tim check with Alfred about the meeting he had with Bruce and the scholarship. Every thing checked out, and Oracle relayed this to the Batman through his earpiece.

"Alright, I've heard enough. You can go. So far you haven't broken any the major rules we go by. Keep it that way. I'll be keeping an eye on you." And the Batman melted into the shadows. Jason stood to his feet and felt a little woozy from his concussion. He called out " and how am I suppose to get out of here?" There was no answer. Simon put his suit back in order, goggles over his eyes, and hat on his head and "jumped" going nowhere but right to the floor. The Ghost blacked out. Batman walked back into the small chamber, picked up the Ghost and carried him to the sick bay. The gray fedora lay on the stone ground.

Alfred, being the Batman' Batman, ministered to the young broken man as he had done so many to so many others; He mused to himself that he should have received his PhD by now, with all the practical skills he has, he could certainly be an emergency room doctor. The young man had a slight concussion, and some abrasions, Boy Scout injuries by Alfred's standards. He dressed the wounds, ran IV fluids and kept the patient from falling out of bed, and wandering the cave, he set Robin to keep an eye on their guest. Alfred was gone and avoided the sickbay as to not let the young man see him. He didn't want to give away his master's secret identity, which would certainly happen if the Ghost recognized him, a very good possibility considering they had met once. Alfred Remembered the boy was very anxious and quite pleased with the meal he had served. He had mentioned several times in correspondence to Mr. Wayne, continually thanking him for the chance he had been offered. Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth were names and faces burned into his mind permanently. And if he is as true as his word, the decision to drop masks lies with a man in an unknown location, the missing head of this obscure yet dedicated family. Alfred pondered these things as he set up his tea serving set for lunch.

The Master sat with his back to the door of the make shift office he was occupying. His meditation was ritual to him and his Dragon Clan. It helped him maintain his focus and centered him in the world he led. The master had hung his black flowing coat, with blood crimson shoulders down to the mid-upper arms, on a rack next to the door. His black katana lay before him, the focal point of his gaze. He wore a black tunic and trousers; in fact he wore all black except for the red in his coat, a matching smock that covered his face from his nose down. And a silver dragon medal on a chain around his neck; the symbol of his leadership of the Dragon Clan, a secret society that uses old martial arts teachings, advanced technology, and some dark arts to run their criminal empire. A society so secret that even the League of Assassins do not know of their shadowy existence. Only a handful of wealthy yet shady benefactors each generation knows of them. The Masters' fiery red hair stood on end as the energy of his powers surged through his body. There was a knock at his door and the masters' eyes snapped open, revealing blood red orbs, as though his eyes were bleeding from the inside and had filled up completely. No pupil or any other part of his eyes could be discerned, just the red.

"Enter" the Master grumbled "this better be good."

"Master, the techs have finished with Wayne," a lowly guard fearfully explained

"Good, Is he ready?" the Master asked, almost impatiently

"He is ready for your evaluation, Master"

" I shall be down momentarily." Then the door slammed n the face of the shaken guard. "Worm" the Master muttered and returned to his meditation.

Dick sat at the large oak dining table, not enjoying the meal before him. His mind was on Simon Trent. He wondered if he had made the right decision in letting the Gray Ghost continue. Alfred had set places for two, Dick was expecting Barbara, but she had to cancel at the last minute due to an emergency in Central City. Captain Cold had unleashed a weather bomb, effectively sealing the city off in a giant igloo. Barbara had to route members of the JLA off of the Bruce Wayne kidnapping to help thaw out the city. Dick understood. Broken dates and missed chances were apart of the whole superhero deal, like a doctor being waken up in the middle of the night to treat emergency patients. Still, he was disappointed, with the stress he had been accumulating lately; he felt they both needed some time alone together. Alfred entered the dining room and began clearing the table of the unused dinnerware. A stern look encouraged Dick to begin eating the pasta in front of him; if not to build up his energy, to keep the old butler appeased. A nursemaid from the beginning, Alfred disapproved of skipping meals or anything that appeared wasteful.

"Alfred how's our guest?" Dick asked

"Asleep, he should rouse anytime. Minor concussion, he'll be fine." Alfred replied. "He shouldn't be moved until he's been checked out by Dr. Tompkins though."

"And how do we do that with out compromising her?" Dick asked

"She's too stubborn to care. She'll just say she was brought in by men in masks" was Alfred's only answer as he dialed Leslie's number.

Dick continued his meal and asked obscurely "What would Bruce have done?"

"I believe he would have handled he situation the way he felt was most efficient, as he would expect you to follow your feelings in the matter in his absence."

"Thank you Alfred. Still, it's not easy having all this responsibility. How Does Bruce do it?"

"Master Dick, Master Bruce took on all of this against my urging. He built up this coalition to help prevent other children from having to share his pain. This responsibility is his coping method, getting lost in his work, you might say. Not the healthiest outlet I would say, but suited for him. His methods differ, as do his attributes. Any other consultation I cannot give. Just that your father would be proud of how your holding the team together and keeping his mission moving forward." With that, Alfred left the room and attended the dishes in the kitchen, silently mourning his friend.

Bruce Wayne lay in his in his cot in the fetal position, staring off into nothingness. Then Master stood before him and was satisfied with the end result. The Master turned and left the cell.

" Prepare him for his trip home. He has work to do." The Master ordered the guards.

Wayne was manhandled into ropes and was blindfolded, then carried away to a waiting black van.

Simon Trent never saw the middle aged woman who treated him, but he felt the effects. While he was unconscious, Dr. Tompkins had performed a CAT scan in the cave to rule out any internal bleeding. When she completed her care, she left instructions with Alfred and Tim for further care. With the good doctors approval, Dick ordered Simon be returned to his apartment, and looked after. He had been in the cave for several days and Dick didn't want this new allies' identity compromised so early in the game. Tim adopted a disguise and convinced the Simon's neighbors that he was Jimmy, Simon's brother, and that he had been mugged and in the hospital for a few days.

Bruce Wayne's near lifeless body was hurled from the black van at ten miles an hour, landing in front of the gate as the van sped away.


End file.
